Tangled Web
by heartorbrain
Summary: "Oh What a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to decieve." Further summary inside. Slash/het and a human AU... Come hither lol


**Inspiration for this story: _"Fix You"_ by Coldplay; _"Addicted"_ by Kelly Clarkson; _"Russian Roulette"_ by Rihanna  
Status: Still fairly new here on , but not my first story. Please check them out. If you like slash and you like "Bones" try my story, "Say When." Booth/Hodgins slash  
A/N: I should update on my other stories but this one won't leave me alone. Also, if any of you know any good betas, I'm in search of one. They have to like BtVS, AtS, and Bones; cause that's pretty much what I write. lol So Lmk.  
Summary: Spike has never been one to play by the rules, which of course is the reason why he winds up in these sorts of messes. But as the tide continues to grow, and the undertow continues to pull, what will happen when he stands to lose everything and everyone he loves?  
Human AU/Spike centered mostly/slash and het alike/both Ats and BtVS characters**

**Please review! I love any and all comments!  
Ciao ;-)**

**Tangled Web**

"Oh what a tangled web we weave,  
When first we practice to deceive."

~Sir Walter Scott, _Marmion_

**Chapter 1:**

A bright, flickering light shone on a singular spot over a stainless steel table, right in front of an also stainless steel chair. The sound of swinging chains and mumbled noises enter the cold, dark and dank room housing this set up, and an annoyed white-haired, English man sits down…with the help of his six guard buddies, to whom he glares at. One of the guards, easily six and a half feet tall with full on steroid body to boot, flick the video recorder on, and supply from seemingly out of nowhere a second chair and place it on the other side of the table. The white haired man smirks.

"So what are you? A magician? And your bloody hat trick is making chairs magically appear?" He laughs and reclines a little, letting the sounds of his chains rattle. "Can't be buggered, the lazy louts, to set the room up properly, so they have you – Mr. Chair Slayer – set it up for them? Ha! Maybe today will be more entertaining than I originally thought!" He continues to snicker as a buzzer goes off and the chagrined guard steps out of the way before making a comment.

To the left, a man in a suit carrying a very official looking briefcase comes into the picture and the white haired man grins again. The business suit guy was about average build, goldenish/brown hair, piercing in his left ear and cold blue eyes. He sets the briefcase down and nods at the other men to leave the room. The white haired man decides at this point to open his mouth. "So what, he was your opening act and now we see the real Houdini?" He appears contemplative for a second. "Or would it be Copperfield? Always did like 'im. Brilliant man that. However, you just don't appear to be the type to attempt to kill yerself on a daily basis – seeing as you've got the servants of yer servants to do that for you – so me guess is I got jipped at the ticket booth. Shame that. Still," he raised a challenging eyebrow, "this is still probably _very_ interesting."

The man with the briefcase had his own chance to smirk, and chuckled slightly. "Spike, Spike, Spike, you've always had a way with words, haven't you?" He said in a Southern voice.

Spike narrowed his eyes. "Obviously not, considering 'm biting me tongue on a few choice words right now, Lindsey 'ol pal." He sat up and stared levelly at the lawyer currently to blame for his situation, all amusement gone. "Care to inform me why in the 'ell 've been invited to yer fancy abode, or is this the game where I hazard a guess?"

Lindsey, totally unaffected, leant back to stare just as piercingly at his opposing party. "Why don't we start with you explaining a few things first."

"Oh no," Spike tsked, and gave Lindsey a rather threatening smile, "I know how that one works, mate. Back me into a corner to say some stupid blow off steam shit and then edit the video to make it sound however you and your lawyer friends want it to sound. Been there, read the book, seen the movie, and bought the fucking t-shirt. Why don't you explain to me why the hell I'm here?"

Lindsey drummed his fingers on his crossed arms before finally deciding to cut to the chase. He opens his briefcase and pulls out a file. After sifting through it a moment, he plops some pictures on the table and poins them. "Any of this look familiar?" he says curtly and raises an eyebrow as Spike's eyes roll and glance down. After a brief, tense moment, he replies, "No."

Lindsey smirks. "Really? So you're saying this isn't you?" He picks one of the photos up displaying Spike in a rather compromising situation with someone else. You couldn't see the other person's face; only the back of her rich, long, brown hair colored head and Spike's lustful gaze. He twitches a little in his seat. "I said I don't recognize the picture, not me in it. For alls I know your lot photo-shopped me into it. 's possible too, what with all the computer nerds ya got swormin' 'round these parts of this poor pathetic place." He appeared defensive.

Lindsey nods, seemingly satisfied. He packs the photos away and pauses for second or two collecting his thoughts on the real reason for him being here. After clearing his throat he starts. "I have countless pictures of you in places and involved in similar behavior, Spike. These," he indicates the briefcase, "are nothing more than a chip off the giant iceberg. You do realize what that means for you, right?"

Spike twitches again and fights to nervously play with his fingers, causing his chains to jerk. After regaining ground on his internal ticking time bomb, he meets Lindsey's smug gaze with a nasty one of his own, not bothering to answer the question.

"You were hired by us to do a job, Spike." Lindsey gracefully continued, not at all feeling the daggers digging to his skin. "And I do believe my boss expressed in vivid detail what would happen if you were to fuck that job up, am I correct?" Again no answer came from Spike. "Well you've fucked it up!" Lindsey laughed and stands, coming to stand next to Spike in a menacing whisper he adds, "And guess what's happening?"

Spike takes a deep breath to refrain from attempting to rip the mug off. "Go for it, Linds, see if I care from beyond the grave." He says snottily and turns to face the lawyer. "Got nothing to lose now right?"

Lindsey full on laughs again, and Spike is suddenly confused. Had he miscalculated? "Oh, Spike, you're biggest problem is your planning, ya know that? What? You thought Hamilton would be axing you?" Spike narrowed his eyes, wondering where he read wrong and gave his adversary ground over him, when suddenly said adversary barked out a, "Right! Cuz you've always been one to value your own hide over someone else's. Please!"

Realization set in, and Spike had to fight once again not to scream in anger. They wouldn't…

"No, I'll tell you what's gonna happen. That tart your all ass over teakettle for, just got herself a one way ticket to the business end of a hell of all hurt, and every time some new and improved form torture gets reinvented…" Lindsey leaned in close once again to snarl it into Spike's ear who at that point was tethered between sanity and lunacy very tightly, "…she's gonna know, it's all your fault."

Spike snapped. Jumping up from the chair he was tied to, causing Lindsey to stumble backward and jerking as best he can he screamed, "You fucking even _think _about touching my Dru, arsehole, and I'll rip your fucking fingers and dick out of place!"

Lindsey smiled. "And how are you going to do that when you're being forced o watch?"

He saw red and made a move to lunge when the guards grabbed him and threw back in the chair, effectively holding him down even through his frenzied struggles. Lindsey opened the briefcase again, and plopped some more files down. Spike quit squirming when he saw a needle also be removed and gulped. This was not good. The whole bloody situation was not good. If he'd only listened to Giles back at the warehouse and gotten Dru to their protected safe house, where the two of them could lay low for a while, none of this would be happening. Hell, no, if he'd only been a better assassin and not mixed business with pleasure in the first place, none of this would have happened. He was so fucked.

"Well, Hamilton wants to cut a deal, and I'd suggest you listen up, Peroxide Brain. Even you can understand what I'm about to say." Lindsey rolls his eyes and picks up the file again. "You have one chance to prove your worth to our company, or your piece of ass gets it. And _you_ get sideline tickets to watch. When you fuck with Hamilton and break the rules, ultimately fucking up your assignment and making him lose his money and _still_ have your mess to clean up, you and what is most important to you gets fucked up." Lindsey sent a cold glare. "Literally. So from where I'm sitting there really is only one choice for you."

"And what choice is that?" he snarls.

"Take this new assignment and make sure not to have any complications." He says simply.

Spike glares daggers at Lindsey and says in a controlled voice, "I told you lot, I was only doing the ONE assignment for you. Why can't I just go back and fix my own bloody, buggering mess!" Lindsey appeared even smugger and Spike nearly spit. "Oh, you fuckers! You knew this was gonna happen from the start! You _wanted _me an' Dru to get involved, so that way ya had leverage ta get me to do this!" he indicated the case file.

Lindsey shrugged, and packed up his briefcase. "Well whatever works, as they say. But make no mistake, if you screw this up…" He paused at the gated door hitting the buzzer, "Drusilla Blake is a dead woman."

And with that, the Lindsey McDonald was gone.

Thank you for reading! Please review!


End file.
